Not Him, Anyone but Him
by YouWillRememberThisPenName
Summary: There aren't many things that one can be sure of in a world consumed by evil. Fear seems like an obvious thing. But even in the depths of darkness, there will always be those who can help bring the light. Family and friends. And then there's the unexpected people, whose lights shine so bright that they illuminate sights you've never seen before. One could even say it's like magic.


Her heart sank in her chest like lead.

All she could think to do was run, so she did just that. Every step she took felt heavy, like treading through quicksand. But she wanted nothing more than to get away from there. Away from them. Away from him.

It was a startlingly pleasant afternoon. The sky was a serene blue, and the reflection of the sun's bright rays on the calm lake normally would've brought her peace. Just minutes ago, she was lying quietly in the shade of a big oak tree. Relaxing her eyes. Giggling with her friends.

It was brief moments like that, moments when her mind wasn't burdened by an awareness of how much cruelty and hate her world was consumed in, that she treasured most. These moments were few and far between nowadays, but when they did arrive she reveled in them. She knew she needed them to keep her sane.

But now she knew that moment had been tarnished. It was though he had reached into her and mixed a thick black ink into her crystal-clear head. Her senses were poisoned to perceive everything to be as evil and twisted as he was. The sky no longer felt blue, it felt empty. The sun's rays weren't soft and warm, they were blinding and burning. The lake wasn't calm, it was dead.

Dead, everything felt dead. Her arms. Her legs. Her lungs. Her heart. Dead.

She hated him. She hated him so much. She wanted him to suffer as much as she was suffering. She wanted him to be humiliated like she had been humiliated. She wanted the word he had said to crawl out of his mouth and plunge straight into her chest before his very eyes. She wanted him to physically see what he had just done, what he had just said.

She wanted him to fall off his broom. She wanted him to drown in the lake. She wanted to plaster all the horrible things anyone had ever said about him across his forehead, and his nose, and his chin. She wanted to point and laugh at him and agree with what all those things said. She wanted to mock his big nose and his greasy hair. She wanted to mimic his weird voice and his stupid walk. She wanted to hurt him, and she wanted him to be hurt.

But she didn't want to hurt him.

She also wanted to sit next to him on the train. And to study quietly with him in their favorite corner of the library. And to talk about his day and his feelings and his hopes and dreams.

She wanted to protect him. She wanted to shield him from all the horrible things anyone had ever said about him. She wanted to tell him he wasn't a freak, that everyone just doesn't appreciate him like she does. She didn't want anyone to hurt him.

She wanted people to like him as much as she liked him. She wanted people to trust him as much as she trusted him.

 _As much as she used to trust him._

She was in the castle now. The hollow thudding her footsteps were making felt like they were rattling her brain inside her skull. She hasn't even realised she had been crying before now, but her tears were cold and salty as they ran down her cheeks and began to gather in the corners of her mouth. The sun had slightly burnt the back of her neck, and it felt like the dull throbbing was travelling from between her shoulders to the rest of her body. Her hands were clammy, so she rubbed them across her wrinkled shirt.

Suddenly, she remembered that in her haste she had left all her belongings behind. Her jumper and her bag and her books were all still sat beside the lake where she had also been moments ago. But there was no way she was going back. He would still be there, and she knew she needed to be as far away from his possible.

As she picked up speed, an involuntary sob escaped her. A few of the paintings turned to scowl questioningly at the silly girl who was inside and crying on a beautiful day like this. She did her best to ignore them.

Think about something else. The exam. It had gone fairly well. Apart from that silly question on werewolves. Why hadn't she studied werewolves and animagi more thoroughly? Stupid mistake. Stupid. She had even been warned that the topic would probably come up. Who had told her again? Oh wait, he had.

Think about something else again. Lunch. It had been perfectly pleasant. Alice had eaten barely anything and panicked about how she knew nothing for the exam. Marlene had eaten quite a bit and boasted about how she knew everything for the exam. The latter was probably being cocky. The former had nothing to worry about. Ignoring the other two girls, she was neither worried nor confident. Despite not growing up around magic she was intellectual, and especially thrived in Potions. Though she didn't always come top of class. Who did? Oh wait, he did.

Think about someone else. Slughorn? Petunia? Potter?

Not him. Anyone but him.

The common room was warm and welcoming. It was a dramatic change from the openness of the Grand Staircase. The familiarity of sights such as the squishy sofa and the scuffed rug and the burnt bricks in the fireplace soothed her. The comforting golden and red hues consumed her.

She took a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth, like her father had always taught her to do. When she had felt sick or scared, when she had been crying so much she felt like she was going to pass out. Breathe. He had always calmly told her to breathe.

Now she still couldn't help but feel sick and scared and sad, but her head was spinning less than it had been before. It was as though she had been stumbling through a dark forest and she could finally see sunlight peeking through the branches. The waves in her stormy mind had begun to settle.

Another deep breath. Even calmer seas.

She dragged her feet up the stairs to her dormitory, and immediately threw herself onto her bed. Her long hair splayed out on the pillow around her head. She hadn't realised how suffocating it had felt hanging around her shoulders and neck. She then undid the buttons of her shirt, and tugged the scarlet tie she had been tightly wearing away from her throat. Her new-found freedom of breath cleared her head even more. Slowly she shuffled out of the rest of her clothes and changed into a soft dressing gown.

She didn't know if she was hot or cold. She didn't know whether to cry or fall asleep. She realised she could even do both if she wished to. But she didn't. She wanted to figure out what she should do next.

If she was anything, she was rational. Practical. She didn't like to act from the heart, she wanted to act from the head. She saw any decision made without logical thought put into it as fruitless. There had been a time when she had been more compassionate, but it was hard to become anything but cynical in times like these.

She supposed she could talk to her friends about it, but knew that Alice was too emotional and Marlene was too impulsive and Mary was too gentle. None of them would provide the balance of sympathy and constructive criticism she was longing for.

She was far too scared to speak to any of the teachers about it.

There was absolutely no way that she could write a letter to home about it either. Petunia would find some way, despite her apparent repulsion to anything magic related, to send a reply, and it would likely contain something along the lines of "I told you so".

Or "We always warned you about him".

"Well it was going to happen eventually".

The anticipation of people saying things like that to her was something else that swarmed around angrily in her brain. Over the years that they had been friends, there had been an increasing amount of people who had felt the need to pass judgement on their relationship.

At first it had just been silly comments from the irrelevant immature boys in her House, and the remarks that the snarky bullies in the hallways would make when they walked past them together. But when it was just them she barely gave it a second thought. Who were they to know better about her friendships than she was?

However, she took notice when those closer to her began expressing concern. Every now and again, the girls from her dormitory kept asking if she was happy. Her mother kept writing to check that she was safe. Of course she was safe and happy? He was her best friend?

Wasn't he?

Yes, he was her best friend. From the day they had met all those years ago, they formed a connection that she perceived as one that would last forever. They had bonded over everything, from similar tastes in music and sweets to similar dreams and secrets. Suddenly, she no longer felt like the odd one out.

A splash of red in a sea of black. A lily in a field of petunias. He was there for her, so she was there for him.

They did everything together. He taught her to control her powers, and see beauty in them. In turn, she taught him sympathy and compassion, things that felt like second nature to her. Together, they were talented, and kind, and special. When she was with him, she wasn't a freak.

When they discovered they were attending school together she couldn't have been happier. Knowing that she would be embracing the next step in her life with him by her side, keeping her company, brought her a comfort that she couldn't express dearly enough. He knew more than she did, so once again she turned to him for guidance. He told her all about the castle. He told her all about the lessons. He told her all about the House they would be in together. She couldn't wait, and she knew he couldn't either.

Not even the colour of their ties could keep them apart. True, he had been hesitant when they initially gotten sorted into different Houses, but with some encouragement and a reassuring smile, he eventually came around. Soon once again, they found themselves doing everything together. They brewed potions and walked together between classes and skimmed stones on the lake.

She made a point of ignoring silly stereotypes that floated around about the two of them. Why would things as trivial as Houses and blood keep them from being friends? It didn't matter to her, and she was sure it didn't matter to him.

Over time they made other friends and picked up different interests. She became a prefect, began tutoring younger students, and enjoyed weekend trips to Hogsmeade with the girls in her dormitory.

He spent an increasing amount of time with people that scared her. She couldn't help but recoil from Avery and Mulciber whenever they were near her or her friends. They creeped her out more than she liked to admit. Rumours about them using Dark Magic hung around the castle like a foul smell. She knew they were also negatively affecting him. Once they had been able to laugh and joke, but suddenly all he wanted to talk about was curses and conspiracies. While she herself had considered a few of those things briefly from time to time, it became extremely tiresome to constantly discuss them in depth.

His intensity frightened her. There was suddenly no longer a connection between them. They were no longer doing everything together. But that didn't matter. She was still his best friend, and he was still hers.

Or at least, he had been.

Deep down, she knew she would never be able to forgive him. The image she had had of him was someone who would never hurt her. Someone who would never discriminate her over something she has no control over. Someone who would never utter such an evil, foul, prejudiced word behind her back, let alone spit it in her face. That image was shattered, and there was no spell that could fix it.

Her stomach lurched. Tears welled up once more in the corners of her eyes. She wanted to scream. But she refused to allow herself. She wasn't going to exert another second of energy over him.

He wasn't worth it. He had clearly chosen his path, so here she was choosing hers.

That was it. She had made her decision without even noticing it. She hadn't needed her friends' advice or her teachers' advice or her mother's advice. He was out of her life for good.

She tried her best to make herself happy about it. No more time spent constantly defending him. No more time making excuses for him. No more time constantly reassuring him. She didn't need him, and he had made it clear that he certainly didn't need her. There was a stinging feeling in her chest. She suddenly realised he probably didn't even like her anymore.

Another decision: sleep. She decided that sleep was what she needed now. She once again placed her head on her pillow and curled up, hugging herself. Breathing gently in through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes felt an immediate release when she closed them, and the tension that had been building in her temple began to subside. All the muscles in her face relaxed. She wasn't sure of many things, but she knew that she was right in thinking that sleep was certainly the best thing for her. She let her tiredness consume her. She also contemplated the only other thing in the world she was entirely sure of.

She, Lily Evans, was no longer best friends with Severus Snape.

* * *

 **So... what did you think? I have a few ideas of where I would like to take this in terms of creating a multi-chapter fic, but if I could hear any thoughts on what I've written so far it would mean the world to me! Over the last few years my writing style has undergone some major developments (it must have hit puberty or something) so let me know if you like it or hate it etc. Any feedback will do!**

 **I hope you're all happy and healthy, and I'll maybe see you back here for a chapter 2 soon**

 **~YouWillRememberThisPenName (I'll probably change this strange username at some point too)**


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